Gravity Walk
by Adreus
Summary: high school au — ""I'm not the one with the crush on the cute Japanese transfer." "He didn't transfer from—that's not what I—" "But he's still cute, right?" —Kaito, Ryoga, Yuma.
1. Batman & Robin

Please don't mind my summary. I had no idea what to put.

So! Last semester I got way too deep into a HSAU for ZEXAL starring our three brave warriors. Then I got even deeper, and wrote it for NaNoWriMo.

This is a bit of an ambitious project for multiple reasons: one of them is that our protagonists here are Asian-Americans in California, and while I'm Asian-American myself, I'm not Japanese, and I'm not from California. Kaito, Ryoga, and Yuma all have varying problems that I'm not intimately familiar with, either, so I should admit that I used and am using this fic as an experiment in exploring my own writing. Kaito, I think, will appear to be a looser interpretation than the others; sometimes when I re-read he feels more like Ryoga than Kaito in canon, but this has a lot to do with a headcanon of mine that I'm expanding for him here, and has a lot to do with spending so much time in a perspective we never get in canon (probably because it'd be too boring).

That all said, this _is_ a ZEXAL fic and it is HSAU, so it'll be melodramatic sometimes and ridiculous at others, and you can definitely expect a healthy dosage of our three main heroes being themselves — that is, being idiots. I played with their ages a bit (this chapter, Kaito is 17 and Haruto is 11), but I promise you they're still our favorite sanyuushi.

Phew. I think that's all I have to say for now. Here we go!

* * *

_Gravity Walk_

01

* * *

In the last week of summer, Kaito wakes up.

He doesn't particularly _want_ to get up, _because_ it's summer and because it's been summer for the past two months, long, boring days with nothing to do and nothing to look forward to, but he doesn't really have a choice in the matter, because the August sunlight slips through his blinds and sits on his eyes, warm, merciless.

Kaito groans and turns over in bed, stubbornly searching for another comfortable position under the sheets, but it's useless, because the timer on the fan standing at the opposite side of the room switched off last night, and the remote fell victim to the clutches of Kaito's bed sometime last month, so now under the sheets is too hot and out of the sheets is too cool, and if Kaito gets up to switch the fan on manually, he'll be too awake to sleep again. It's a lose-lose situation, really, just like everything else that's happened in recent memory, but, hey, Kaito's getting used to that kind of thing, isn't he?

Kaito rolls onto his back, blinks his eyes open, and stares at his ceiling. He tries to remember what day it is, tries to remember when school'll start and he'll at least have some homework to do, but it's not a particularly successful pursuit; he doesn't think he's looked at a calendar for weeks now, so he doesn't have the slightest clue as to what day it is, and the date is equally as elusive. But he does know it's August, and he does know that it feels like it's _been_ August for a while, so… maybe there's only a week or so left of summer? Maybe? If he's lucky.

He… is looking forward to homework. He'd wonder when exactly his life became this pathetic, except he already knows exactly when everything went wrong.

Wondering in itself is a joke. Maybe the word 'wrong' is wrong, too, and—oh, hey, that sounded kind of poetic, didn't it?

It's… stupid, but Kaito's written a lot of poetry lately, written down his thoughts on loose leaf and in notebook and crumpled them up halfway finished, thrown them at the trash bin and missed. Tried to read some books instead, gave up on the first chapter because the protagonist was boring or Kaito doesn't like the voice or he just can't get into it, and that's what the mess on his desk is if anyone plans on asking. He meant to clean that up a couple of times, too; he tried to clean his desk and failing that tried the closet or his drawers or any other part of his room, but he gave up on all of that, too, failed so spectacularly that it's messier now than it was before.

Well… whatever. He doesn't care. It's not like he's trying to impress anyone.

Kaito registers the tingling. He closes his eyes and counts to ten.

Time for breakfast.

It is, apparently, Saturday. Kaito finds this out on the way downstairs, when he sees Haruto parked in front of the TV like he always is on Saturday mornings, and Kaito can figure it's a new episode from Haruto's posture alone: he's at the edge of his seat, eyes wide, cereal soggy and forgotten on the cushion next to him. Kaito shakes his head and says good morning; Haruto's response is short and inattentive, but he does scoot over when Kaito picks up the cereal bowl and takes its spot. It's the latest installment of the newest Batman series that's got Haruto so excited today—Kaito supposes, glancing down at his own logoed pajamas, that he should probably appreciate his little brother's taste in Saturday morning cartoons, but Kaito's still kind of miffed that no one's bothered to properly animat Jason's run as Robin yet. Jason is his favorite.

He knows Haruto won't, so Kaito downs the milk-and-cereal soup and settles in.

It's only during the commercial that Haruto really registers Kaito's presence, turning to him and wrinkling his nose at the sight of the breakfast-that-once-was. Kaito snorts, slurps up the remaining milk directly from the bowl.

"I'll get you a new one," he says once he's finished, and then as he's heading to the kitchen, "How long've you been up?"

Haruto brings his index finger to his chin and sticks out his lower lip. "Hmmmm."

Kaito returns and presents the prince with his meal, messes up his hair, and kisses him on the cheek. Haruto's used to Kaito's spontaneous affection, of course, so he doesn't have much of a reaction; instead, he accepts the offering and shovels the cereal into his mouth, munching on it contemplatively.

"When Dad left," he finally says between munches. "I think."

Their dad, Kaito calculates, probably left for his hour long commute maybe two hours ago, and that makes Kaito feel kind of guilty, kind of disappointed in himself for not waking up earlier, because as much as he hates waking up in general, Kaito's not overly fond of Haruto being awake alone, either.

Kaito probably made a face, because Haruto frowns. "Niisan?"

"What?"

"Are you doing anything today?"

Kaito blinks. That's not what he expected. "No. Why?"

"Well," starts Haruto, his expression sheepish, "you've wasted all summer doing nothing." Haruto bites his lip, like there's more he wants to say, but now that it's time to say it, he's not quite sure if he wants to anymore. He stares at his bowl and plays with the spoon, salvaging the bran and dropping it back in again.

He seems to decide on silence.

"You're right," prods Kaito, and then, gently, "Did you have anything in mind?"

"Why don't you…" starts Haruto, and then he nods to himself, looks up to meet his older brother's eyes with a confidence about him. "Why don't you go visit Chris?"

Kaito winces.

"Chris," he says, doing his best to keep his voice even, "is at Dad's office."

"And Dad," replies Haruto, scooting even farther over on the sofa to reveal he's been sitting on something, "left this at home." He motions for Kaito to take it; Kaito does, brow furrowed, and quickly realizes that it's a wallet, and Kaito's mouth opens like he wants to say something but no words come out, and Kaito stares at Haruto, whose expression has become the most angelic grin the boy can muster, a smile that's historically meant innocence but is apparently graduating into something far more sinister.

In Kaito's hands is his dad's wallet. His dad's wallet has a lot of important things in it—money, for one, and his driver's license, and a few credit cards, and his social security, but what it also has is a keycard. A keycard that unlocks his office and secures his parking space, and a few other important things, like labs and a database. Basically, Dr. Faker's entire work day is impaired by the keycard's absence, something Kaito knows because this has happened before; something Kaito knows because he's had to drop it off before, not this summer but the last, because their dad only seems to be an irresponsible asshole if it can directly inconvenience Kaito at that particular moment in time.

"Niisan?" prods Haruto, because Kaito is glaring at the wallet, thinking how this isn't his problem at all, how Haruto totally planned this in another one of his (so far fruitless) attempts to get Kaito and their dad to get along.

"He called?" asks Kaito, because if he didn't—well, Kaito isn't exactly a Boy Scout.

Haruto nods. "He said you weren't picking up your phone."

Of course he wasn't. Kaito doesn't even know where his phone _is_; presumably he lost it to the same monster that swallowed the remote to the fan, and the battery was already down, so no less than a clean up of his entire room has to be conducted before it'll resurface, but, hey, whatever. The only person Kaito ever calls is… well, no one. He doesn't even have a texting plan.

"Niisan," says Haruto, and Kaito scowls, but he knows he's not winning here, because when was the last time he won at anything, and Haruto will just pout or something and Kaito'll have no way to refuse then, and, you know, he—he swallows—actually hasn't… seen Chris in a while… so…

...Maybe that bike to the bus stop, maybe the bus ride to the city that follows, won't be so bad if he gets to see his only—friend? contact?—uh, if he gets to see Chris.

"Fine," Kaito says, sighing, but not before snatching a twenty. "Go call Droite."

Haruto gives him a toothed grin and a quick hug, and you'd think Kaito just promised the kid a candy fountain or something. But just as Haruto's about to go and call their neighbor, _Batman_'s back on and Haruto looks from Kaito to the TV and back again, and Kaito shakes his head. The kid looks anxious.

Whether or not Haruto agrees, Kaito has had enough of Bruce Wayne for a lifetime, so he ruffles his little brother's hair again and relieves him of his duties with a kiss to his forehead, grabs the house phone, and heads upstairs. Kaito has to get ready, anyway.

He calls Droite and more tells than asks about dropping Haruto off for a few hours, but Droite's known him long enough—since they moved here—and so his being a jerk is really nothing new to her. Besides, even if she doesn't like Kaito, Haruto is impossible to dislike, and Droite isn't free today but her boyfriend will be around, so she says it's okay. Haruto'll be happy to hear that — he loves Gauche. But Haruto seems to find a way to love everyone.

Upstairs, Kaito wades through his room to his armoire and has a staring contest with his wardrobe. He's mostly spent the summer in old T-shirts and the same pair of black sweatpants, but that's probably not the proper attire for visiting your dad at his company in the city—or, more significantly, to visit one of your only friends at his internship, especially after…

Well. The last time Kaito talked to Chris in person was a few weeks ago, when Chris came around to drop papers off with Faker or something like that before the summer internship started, and at the time Kaito might've been in one of the biggest depressions of his life—so when Chris suggested that Kaito maybe come up to the city and intern, too, Kaito snapped at him, told Chris he wanted absolutely nothing to do with his dad _or_ his stupid company, and that if Chris could do the world a favor and keep his unnaturally big nose out of other people's business, it would be fantastic.

Chris was bewildered at Kaito's violent response—he thought that Kaito would _like_ something to distract him—but Chris knew that Kaito was stressed and tired, so he shrugged it off and told Kaito that he didn't think his nose was that big, but, hey, Kaito probably knew better, and Chris would see him around once Kaito grew up a little.

Now, as Kaito pulls on jeans (they're looser than he remembers) and a Triforce tee, the embarrassment at the memory is almost too overwhelming to bear. He knows Chris is one to hold grudges—once he didn't talk to Kaito for five solid weeks because he was mad about a disagreement between Kaito's dad and his own—but Kaito hopes that Chris will cut him some slack this time.

It's just that Kaito's never entirely sure what to expect with him.

Anyway.

Kaito stuffs his dad's wallet in one pocket, stuffs his own things—keys, wallet, no phone, no iPod—in the other, and heads back downstairs, his steps probably a little heavier and faster than necessary. Haruto, he finds, is still watching cartoons—now it's that show about Duel Monsters, another classic from Kaito's childhood, but something Kaito thinks he's finally outgrown.

"Hey," Kaito says, since Haruto is still in his own pajamas with his hair a mess, "Go get ready."

"Hm?"

"Did you think Droite was coming here?"

"No," says Haruto, who looks like he did. "Of course not."

"Droite has satellite, too, I promise," Kaito says. "Gauche probably DVRs your shows, in any case." Man-baby that he is.

Haruto's face lights up at the mention of Gauche, and Kaito smiles. It's a small one, and it disappears quickly enough, but it's there.

"Go on."

Haruto gets to his feet, wobbling on his legs at first, still not quite used to walking again. Kaito tries to remember if he's left Haruto alone with _anyone_ besides himself or sometimes their dad for longer than a few minutes this past summer. The answer he reaches is no, and he bites his lip in nervousness, wondering if he trusts Gauche or not, but he… Kaito can't be around Haruto all the time, right, especially not after school starts, and Gauche is a big jock but he's not _bad_, so…

"Haruto," he says later, when they're outside Droite's door and Haruto stands on the tips of toes to ring the doorbell, "don't strain yourself too much, okay?"

Haruto settles on the heels of his feet and looks up at his brother, tilting his head. But then he smiles something soft and nods, understanding. "Take care of yourself, too."

Kaito opens his mouth to try and argue that he doesn't need to, but Haruto glares at him, and that's enough to shut him up before he starts.

"Did you bring your medicine?" Haruto asks, with the tone of a teacher scolding a naughty student.

"Did _you_?" shoots Kaito back, but it's half-hearted and he doesn't really expect a response.

Haruto crosses his arms, in response to which Kaito definitely doesn't pout. "Niisan."

"Just… be careful, okay?"

Haruto rolls his eyes. "Okay, Mom."

The door opens and they're met with Droite's boyfriend, who grins and scoops Haruto up in his arms, safe and smiling and happy, and Kaito waves good-bye.


	2. Farts & Cat Poop

Sorry for lack of Yuma and Shark! Yuma is next week and Shark is the one after that, and then full sanyuushi ahead!

* * *

GRAVITY WALK

02

* * *

He almost hits the girl with the cat ears on his way to the bus stop; almost hits her, and almost kills the guys she's travelling with, but, hey, who cares, they survived, right, and that's really what matters. He's almost late for the bus, too; by the time he manages to figure out when the hell it's coming and which bus route he's supposed to take, the last few people are taking their seats, and he has to wave his arms around and yell a curse word or two for the driver to notice him and scowl and open up the doors. He shakes in every last bit of his dad's change and then stares at every taken seat and every pole with someone's hand grabbing it, and he blinks and he almost falls over when the bus lurches before he's settled. In the end he's basically forced to hold the ceiling, which is fun in that his arms feel like they're about to fall off and his shoulders groan in protest of the effort it takes not to invade the personal space of everyone nearby.

The ride is about an hour long and there's three stops before the one he wants, so he's lucky at least in that eventually he manages to steal a seat from an old lady and massage his arms, but the seat is warm and smells like a nice mix of farts and cat poop, which is, of course, fantastic. Kaito hopes that his dad's wallet will catch the scent.

It's afternoon by the time he gets to his destination, and he's moderately aware that he's hungry and his stomach kind of hurts for it, but he's also angry enough with his dad and public transportation and something about the way Gauche looked at him not to care, so he pulls up his stupid loose jeans and walks to his dad's stupid building, presses his face against the stupid glass once, scouting for any annoying faces he might recognize, then walks in. There's a Starbucks to the left of the lobby; Kaito's only ever had Starbucks once before, when Chris treated him last year, and he remembers it was expensive, so Kaito heads there first, and buys himself a Trenta Caramel Macchiato, charges it on his dad's credit card, tastes it, scowls, and throws it in the trash. Then he buys another one and a roll, heads to the lobby, and gives the Trenta to the receptionist, who was staring wistfully at the café when Kaito walked in, like she was debating whether it was worth it to spend the five dollars or not.

"I'm here for Faker," he says, while she tilts her head at the drink, but she nods, recognizes him; Chris told her Kaito was coming. Of course he did. Of course Haruto can't be the only one plotting against him; now it's Chris, too, and Faker, probably, leaving his wallet at home on purpose as all of them attempt some sort of intervention, and maybe that would have the faintest possibility of working if it didn't involve getting up in the morning, moving anywhere, least of all _here_, taking public transportation, or, you know, a little thing some people refer to as "existing."

"Third floor," the receptionist advises him, and Kaito, who's already heading to the elevators, scowls. He _knows_.

She doesn't thank him for the coffee, either, which strikes him as kind of rude. See if he uses his dad's credit card to treat her the next time he's forced to come here.

He stands stiffly as he waits for the elevator to come down from the ninth floor, and his stomach ache is getting worse, so he takes a bite of the roll but it doesn't really help because it's nothing physically wrong that's making him sick now—it's something about staring up at the elevator and waiting for it to open that kind of makes him want to keel over in stress and maybe die, because there's something that—that…

...Well, there's something about knowing that Chris rides up and down here every day that bothers him, knowing that this lobby and those elevators and the floors they lead up to are Chris's everyday place that makes Kaito feel... exhilarated isn't the word, and neither is embarrassment, but, fine, there's some misplaced heat in his cheeks when he thinks about it. The scenarios start to play in his head before he can efficiently murder the directors, scenarios like the possibility that right after the _ding_ the doors will slide open and there will be Chris, who Kaito hasn't seen or spoken with in weeks, and Kaito will be an angry mess whose clothes smell like cat poop and farts and whose mouth tastes like bad Caramel Macchiatos, and Chris will—

The _ding_ sounds, the elevator opens, Kaito's heart beat-beat-beats, aaaand there's no one there.

He walks in like he has a limp, misses the button for the third floor two times, then slams it so hard his wrist starts to hurt. He curses, grits his teeth; starts to calculate how long this venture is going to take, how long it'll be before he gets home. Haruto must be having fun right now.

In misplacing his phone and lacking a watch, Kaito doesn't know what time it is right now, but he's sure that Haruto's cartoon marathon is over, that he and Gauche are playing games or whatever it is they do together, laughing and enjoying themselves without Kaito there to be the stick in the mud. In his ever-active stomach, Kaito feels the same squirming that he felt when he saw Gauche earlier in the day, and he frowns at his trembling fist.

The elevator _dings_ again, and Kaito walks out onto the third floor. The floor's for most of the executive offices and one or two of the more secret labs, so there're security guards hanging around that recognize and nod at him, but if they think he looks somewhat out of place they don't say anything. Kaito walks past busy looking men and women in labcoats and stops at the last room with the lights turned off, where a bored looking almost-off-duty guard is scrolling through his Twitter feed and a jittery secretary is double- or triple-checking some paperwork.

Whatever his dad does up here, the security is ludicrous, easy to breach for a kid in a Zelda T-Shirt and loose faded jeans, but guarded all-the-same. It's a shame Kaito doesn't care to ask after it; if it's illegal, he could use it for blackmail or something.

The guard barely notices him but the secretary provides a polite hello, and Kaito doesn't register if he actually responds. The secretary jumps with glee when Kaito walks up to his dad's glass doors and pulls out the wallet, but Kaito scrutinizes the guy and knows immediately that he's a bit of a flake. Kaito swipes himself in, shuts the door behind him, flips on the lights, and walks up to his dad's desk.

It's a neat contrast to Kaito's own; the folders are all...well, folded; the papers all neat and signed; the calendar on the desk written on in chicken scratch but every meeting crossed out, every lab accounted for. There's the usual pens and paper and highlighter and stapler and all that, but having never actually seen this side of the desk before, Kaito's… surprised, he supposes, when he sees the pictures.

There… are three of them. Kaito only recognizes one photo, but he's intimately familiar with the people in all of them, and he doesn't know how Faker got the one Kaito _does_ recognize, so… well, he takes it upon himself to be offended.

Kaito and Haruto in a meadow far away from the city in a picture their mom took.

Faker holding a newborn Haruto in his arms.

Kaito and his mother before Haruto was even born. Kaito with puffy red cheeks and awkward picture-day hair, his mother with her defined features and her dimpled smile, the eyes with the stars in them, and he can hear her voice in his head now, _you'll look after him, won't you, Niisan?_, and he feels his heart ache and his blood betray him as he picks up the portrait and brushes aside the dust, and _god_, how dare that man have this here? It's… _no_, she's Kaito's mother but she's not Faker's wife, and Kaito nearly smashes the frame right then and there, but, well… he's never seen this one before, right, so he turns the frame over. He moves the nub aside and pulls out the picture, stares at it for a moment more.

Then he slips it out and into his back pocket. Something's gotta pay for shipping and handling.

His task thusly performed, the wallet delivered (mostly) in-tact, Kaito leaves his father's office with only the key. He slides it down the secretary's desk once he's outside; he figures the guy is new and nervous enough that he won't even touch it until his boss asks if Kaito stopped by.

"Don't screw up," Kaito advises.

He's too preoccupied with the weight of the picture in his backpocket to really think of anything else on the way back to the elevator. This time as he waits, he pulls the picture out again, imagining the place where it must've been taken and how he must've felt at the time, so he's not thinking about anything else, not even considering being nervous or running into friends or not-friends in big, annoying buildings in a city an hour away from home.

So fate takes the opportunity to step in and steps on his toes.

The elevator doors open, Kaito makes to go in without looking up, and walks straight into Christopher Arclight.

"Sorry," Chris is trying to say, before they both step back and Chris realizes who he's looking at, and he smiles and doesn't even have the decency to act surprised when he says the warm, "Kaito."

"Bye," says Kaito, who would stay and chat except that Chris is accompanied by two other men, one of whom he recognizes and has no intention of talking to right now.

"Kite," says Faker, surprised, and Kaito winces because _no_, "you came."

"Can we not do this?"

His dad frowns, struggling to articulate something that's been on his mind but has always had difficulty forming on his tongue. Chris looks like he's about to step up to mediate between the two of them, but before he can, the man that Kaito doesn't recognize—a tall, muscular, Japanese looking guy with the biggest grin Kaito's ever seen and the cheeriest disposition Kaito's ever wanted to escape—spreads out his arms and his smile.

"So you must be Kaito!" he says, getting up close, and Kaito blinks at him, backing away; he hasn't had anyone so close in his personal space uninvited before, and he hasn't heard anyone outside of Haruto pronounce his name exactly right in what feels like an eternity. Looking at him, it makes sense, of course, but it's still… jarring? No, it's not _bad_, just… unexpected.

"I've heard a lot about you," the man continues, which is funny, because...

"I have no idea who you are."

The man laughs, and it's not one of those nervous ones that he's sure he'd get from Chris or Faker, but good-natured, like Kaito's just told a really good joke. "Kazuma Tsukumo!" the man proclaims, proffering his hand. "I'm an archaeologist your dad is juuuust about to hire." He winks at Faker, who gives him one of those ha-ha-you're-so-funny sort of grimace-smiles, and that makes Kaito snort. He shakes Kazuma's hand, and realizing that he's blocking their way out of the elevator, steps back to let the men out.

His dad takes the moment to ask, "Kaito, ah…"

"Secretary," Kaito responds. His dad thanks him, and shuffles in the other direction, pointing out that his office is just over there, if they'd follow him.

"Just a minute," says Kazuma Tsukumo, and when Faker looks hesitant, Kazuma adds, "Oh, it's all right, Doctor, Chris'll show me the way when we're done here."

Chris nods. "Go on, sir," he says, and Faker, looking kind of dumb in his speechlessness, which Kaito can appreciate, turns and leaves. Kaito tries to take that moment to escape, too, but Chris easily tugs on the back of his shirt to stop him, smiling pleasantly. The doors shut and the elevator heads further up, and Kaito scowls.

"What d'you want?"

Chris shakes his head, and Kazuma's the one to speak. "I'm sorry to keep you," he says, "but Chris here is the one who told me about you."

Kaito's glare at Chris intensifies, because there are a lot of things that Chris knows about Kaito, and knowing that he talks about him with strangers at the internship of which Kaito's dad is in charge isn't exactly what Kaito likes to hear.

Kazuma pulls out his wallet and from it, a photo of his family—a woman, older; another, middle-aged, presumably Kazuma's wife; a third, maybe's Kaito's age; and finally, a boy, with bright red eyes and even brighter pink hair. Kazuma points at him. "Forgive me, the photo's a bit old, but I'm fond of it. This is my son, Yuma. He's about to start his second year of high school." Kazuma pauses there, and Kaito, who was starting to zone out, motions for him to go on with a nod. Kazuma's pleased by that. "Kaito, Chris tells me you're in Heartland Central?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Ah, that's good… I'm glad. Yuma struggles to make friends sometimes, see, so I was afraid that he would be lonely. Heartland Central's where he's going next week, so I was hoping…" He trails off, all the while smiling, and Kaito wonders if Kazuma Tsukumo is ignoring Kaito's dead-eye on purpose.

"Mr. Tsukumo," Chris says quietly, and points over his shoulder. Kazuma follows Chris's direction to see Faker looking out at them from his office, and Kazuma laughs.

"Everyone here is impatient," Kazuma says, shaking his head, and Chris supplies polite laughter. Then Kazuma turns back to Kaito and thanks him for his time, shakes his hand once more, and without waiting for Kaito to really say anything, without bothering to read his expression, he dashes off, Chris forgotten.

Kaito tries to make another escape. Three hundredth time is the charm, right?

Wrong.

"Kaito—"

"Shouldn't you be guiding him or whatever?"

"It's a straight line. Will you look at me?"

"What?" Kaito demands, turning on his heel and crossing his arms. He's not in the mood for this; he remembered as soon as he saw Chris why they weren't talking, and the silly fantastic loops his heart was doing earlier have disappeared entirely in the absence of daydreams.

Chris regards him. Kaito feels naked under his gaze, the gaze of his only friend, the only person he's ever talked to about his problems, and the same person he hasn't spoken to since. Chris has a way of making him feel very small, and it isn't just his height.

"Cut it out," Kaito mutters, suddenly very tired.

"You're not taking care of yourself," Chris appraises, frowning.

"Mind your own business."

"Come on," says Chris, taking his hand. "I'll treat you to lunch."

"Don't you have an internship to get to?"

"I'll take my break." Chris is firm, and he squeezes Kaito's hand and guides him away.

* * *

Lunch is a surprise. Kaito thought he'd end up being dragged to the same Starbucks as before, was considering making Chris buy him the most expensive café sandwich there, but instead Chris drags him through the lobby and out the door, to the city streets. Kaito wants to ask where they're going, but that would mean speaking to him, and Kaito is dead-set on _not_ doing that, even if the wind feels nice and walking is refreshing, even if it's nice to use his voice—he didn't realize how much he hasn't been using it lately. Has he even been talking to Haruto?

Chris doesn't actually try to start up a conversation while they're going, either, though, and they must look really weird walking like that, an angry kid in a Zelda T-Shirt and jeans that smell like cat poop and farts, a guy with a side-braid (Chris grew his hair out, did he) and a smile and a lab coat, like two people who just happen to be walking at the same exact pace in the same exact direction, instead of two friends.

Kaito first met Christopher Arclight just a year ago, on an adventure almost identical to this one; his dad left some important things at home, he needed them delivered, and Kaito was on his summer vacation. He and Haruto had come together that time; Haruto was ten years old, but he's always been small for his age, and he clung to Kaito's hand with his little pale palm, and they ran into Chris somewhere along their delivery, Kaito doesn't really remember in detail. His first memory is hazy; Chris's face looked longer and his hair was shorter when Kaito first saw him, his look more appraising as he glanced down at Kaito and Haruto with his height advantage, but there was something about Chris even then, and once Kaito dropped off Faker's whatever-it-was, Chris was the one who told Kaito how to get to the infamous ice cream stand that Haruto'd heard about in school—and then volunteered to take them there.

They're probably not going to that ice cream place right now.

There's something faint that starts up in Kaito's head after the first block, and by the second he starts to get dizzy, and he was already tired enough, so he's crankier now, but he tries to keep his voice calm when he demands, "And where exactly are we going?"

"He speaks!" wonders Chris, but his joke doesn't go over well and when he sees Kaito's face he frowns, playing around forgotten. "Right there," he says then, pointing at a multi-colored store with a neon sign… that's advertising frozen yogurt.

Kaito is surprised, but he goes in without a word. Chris follows.

Inside, he grabs a cup, fills it to the brim, and has it weighed. "He'll pay," he says, shrugging in Chris's direction, then he picks up the ice cream and chocolate filled heart attack, sets it on a table, and digs in like he hasn't had food all day (which he hasn't, and his body is reminding him, and this probably isn't a good idea, but Kaito thinks he deserves this).

Chris comes to join him a minute later. "Sorry," he says, but Kaito's not sure what exactly for, so he doesn't acknowledge it.

"I'm surprised you of all people brought me here," Kaito mutters.

"I figured you wouldn't have gone in a while."

"No," agrees Kaito, he hasn't.

"Have you gone anywhere?"

Kaito wants to tell him it's none of his business again, but he slumps onto the table instead, plays with his spoon. He filled his cup to the brim, but he's not all that hungry anymore, and he's not looking forward to the bus ride back, kinda wishes he could just sleep here and wake up at home.

"Kaito?"

"No," he mumbles. "Stop asking."

Chris doesn't. "Kaito…"

"When _your_ body's decided to make something about your little brother about _you_, when you can't live on a daily basis and either feel like you wanna die all the time or need to piss every five seconds, come back and talk to me."

...is what he wants to say. Instead…

"Chris," he looks at him imploringly, and finally Chris nods.

"I get it. I'll drop it."

Kaito wonders if he does, but doesn't say as much, and Chris smiles again, and it's really annoying that he does that, because Kaito would prefer that people get angry at him so that he has a legitimate reason to be angry back and not feel bad about it later.

"Stop being nice to me."

"Can I ask you something?"

Kaito groans, and Chris takes that as a 'yes.' "Why didn't you want to come up here? Do you hate your dad that much?"

He wonders vaguely what time it is, wonders again what Haruto's doing right now, what jokes Gauche is telling, if Droite is back yet and if they're all having fun. Wonders if Gauche will take them all out somewhere, like he offered to do last summer whenever a movie was out and Droite had work or didn't want to see the remake of _the Karate Kid_, thank you. Wonders if Haruto will say yes because _Niisan doesn't do anything_, Kaito doesn't go anywhere or ever have fun, just lies around the house being moody all day, and it's just…

Kaito doesn't want to have fun. He doesn't… well. "It's… not that. I don't _want_ to do anything."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. Ever." He slumps in his chair again. The yogurt and ice cream and M&Ms have all melted by now, making a multi-colored mixture on the bottom of the cup that looks weird but probably tastes fantastic. Kaito pushes the cup away, pushes his chair back, and says, "I'll see you around."

Chris gets out of his own chair. "You will?"

Kaito, who wasn't really paying attention to his phrasing, hesitates, and Chris shakes his head like, _yeah, I didn't think so_.

"Well, at least answer my texts every now and then. And do try to enjoy the school year, Kaito."

"Don't tell me what to do."


	3. Really Super Cool

GRAVITY WALK

03

* * *

On Sunday, Kaito figures he should probably find out when school starts, or at least if there was some sort of apocalypse scheduled, because he wakes up to an empty house and if there was some sort of mass human death, he feels cheated being left alive.

He finally figures out the time, at least; squinting up at the DC Superhero analog on his wall, he discovers that he's slept in until noon. He groans at the realization and throws off his sheets, stumbles downstairs in his boxers and still rubbing at his eyes, weighs the pros and cons of having cereal or exerting the effort necessary for scrambled eggs. In the end, the cereal wins over, so he pours himself a bowl and discovers the lack of milk in the fridge too late. He sighs dramatically, closes the fridge door, and for the first time notices the message on their dry-erase board that informs him that Haruto and their dad have gone shopping for school supplies, and Kaito should call them if he needs anything. He erases it and writes out in big, bold letters: **MILK**.

He eats the cereal dry, skims through the newspaper that's set on the kitchen counter as he does. He finally finds out the date, too; it's the twenty-eighth, and according to the conveniently timed article about the decreasing SAT grades of his generation and how they're all too addicted to digital technology, Heartland Central is commencing on the seventh of September, a Wednesday, which is lame because he likes it better when the first week of school starts on a Thursday. Shorter that way. Less painful.

Does he miss school, or not? Maybe he just wants something to do.

He washes the bowl and sets it to dry, washes his dad's and Haruto's bowls from earlier that morning, too, because they just left them there, no doubt planning to do them later but hoping that Kaito would get there first, because Kaito's room may be a mess but there's something inside him that's bothered when the rest of the house is, probably the remnants of habits that he got from his mom. Their home might've been small, but it was always tidy, open to any visitors that their mom might receive.

Just as Kaito's thinking of visitors and all the ones they didn't actually receive despite his mom's policy, keys jingle outside and the lock is turned, and Haruto runs inside yelling something or other, and Kaito's casually in the kitchen in his underwear with a bowl of cereal like he's Dick freaking Grayson, which would be alright if not for the fact that there's someone else that follows.

The kid that's standing next to Haruto is one of the weirdest kids Kaito has ever seen in his life, with gelled back dark hair and hot pink highlights, and that's not the weird part because hair sure is a thing around here, but... well, Kaito stares at the kid's pants, white skin tight jeans that flare at the bottom and flare in design, too, orange stripes of craft store paint that he must've put on himself. He has this absurdly bright face and these blindingly white teeth that show through when he smiles at Kaito, like they've known each other for years and Kaito is his best friend, that this is normal and happens every day but hasn't in a while and it's nice for it to happen again, a stranger seeing Kaito in his underwear with a bowl of dry cereal and a scowl.

"Niisan!" Haruto proclaims, and leaps at Kaito with impressive zeal for a hug. "Look who we saw at Target!"

Kaito catches him and then looks at the stranger again, and… has no idea who this is.

"Nice to meet you," the guy says, putting down his shopping bags on the table (and one of them has milk). He does this chuckle, too, and it's... well, it's like he walked out of a shonen anime. Then there's the stretch of his arm, a grin that's familiar—

"This is Yuma," introduces Haruto, "He's Kazuma Tsukumo's son, Dad said you met him!"

"Uh," says Kaito, who is extremely aware of his lack of clothing save his underwear with the tiny spaceships on them and the yellow and green bird's nest that can loosely be referred to as his hair, "I'll be right back."

Haruto and Yuma nod, Faker comes in with some more bags, and Kaito heads upstairs. Pulls on the first pair of pants he can extract from the floor and the same tee from yesterday, stares in the mirror with narrow eyes, wipes a hand through his hair. Decides that it's passable for a Sunday morning, and honestly who is this kid anyway, and goes back.

He finds Haruto and Yuma huddled around the round kitchen table, the contents of the Target bag spilling onto the surface and revealing the secret that Kaito has to squint at to make sure they're real; two rectangular boxes, made of tin and sporting incredibly detailed art in a font that Kaito recognizes, in a style that Kaito recognizes, in a format that Kaito recognizes, and he hesitates for a moment before walking over and picking up one of the tins, and asking, even though, yeah, the logo is kind of there, "Are these… Duel Monsters?"

"Yup!" says Haruto excitedly, grinning up at him. "Yuma plays, too, Niisan! We ran into him by the trading cards."

"Yeah?" says Kaito, flipping over the tin to see the back. There's text that's advertising the cards inside: this one contains two ultimate rares and one of the new all important godly cards from the latest episode of the Japanese anime before the dub has even reached that season. He smiles faintly at it, like it's something he _has_ to do, and loses interest fairly rapidly, but he feigns it because of how excited Haruto is. Kaito hasn't played DM in years.

"Haruto told me you play, Kaito," says Yuma excitedly, and Kaito doesn't miss how he says his name just right, too, just like his dad, and if his dad's atmosphere was so cheery Kaito wanted to escape, Yuma is like the sun and Kaito is about to get radiation poisoning.

Yuma looks up at him with doe eyes.

"Used to," Kaito grunts, because, yeah, both he and Haruto'll look at the cards when they're in a store and check out the packs but they won't actually buy them—it looks like today is an exception for Haruto. The only card Kaito cares about… Before he realizes it, Kaito's blurting out, "Yuma, you speak Japanese?"

Yuma tilts his head. "Sure," he answers, "Why?"

"Never mind," says Kaito, but Yuma, he quickly discovers, isn't one to _never mind_ anything. He sits up in his chair and gets closer into Kaito's space, tilting his head even further with an exaggerated frown.

"That's not fair!" says Yuma. "I answered your question, so now you have to answer mine!"

Kaito sneers. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen," Yuma answers swiftly, then there's a look of confusion and a half-gasp and a glare. "Hey! That's two to zero!"

Haruto watches the exchange with interest, and Kaito draws back. Yuma looks at him expectantly, his frown going into a pout, and he honestly looks like a puppy, a face like that could rival Haruto's, and doesn't actually have the sinister connotation that Kaito's little brother is learning to adopt.

"Fine," says Kaito, resigning himself and dropping into the seat across from Yuma, and Kazuma had asked, right, even if Kaito had never agreed, even if Kaito never so planned. "What is it?"

"Can _you_ speak Japanese?" Yuma asks, and he's absurdly excited about it, bouncing up and down in his chair, and before Kaito can even answer he goes on, "'Cause, like, _Touchan_ told me that you're half, otherwise I wouldn't've guessed, and your name is really super cool and I've never known anyone my age that can really talk to me and you play DM and that's really super cool and—"

"Whoa there," Kaito says, putting up his palms, because he definitely just called 'cool,' and if Kaito knows anything about himself for sure it's that he is a lump, a loser, and not really someone to be looked up to. "Slow down."

Yuma gets that wounded look again, but then he giggles. "Ah, sorry. Hey, can you read?"

Kaito figures Yuma means Japanese, in which he can read all of his name and a very select few of kanji that would never actually be useful, and Yuma (miraculously) notices Kaito's grimace but lacks the tact to address it gracefully, so he goes, "Ooh, guess not."

"Niisan knows a ton more than I do," Haruto puts in, and Kaito appreciates the gesture, would ruffle his hair if he could, because Haruto has a way of lifting his spirits no matter how shitty he feels.

"Hey, Yuma," asks Haruto then, "do you have any brothers or sisters?"

Yuma gets this far off look in his eyes, but then he rolls them. "Neechan is back in Japan. She went there for college, said she missed her friends or whatever."

"You moved here?"

"We're always moving around," Yuma explains. "My mom and dad are both like that. They don't stay in one place too long, so we move around with them. I don't think I've ever been in the same school for more than two years… but Dad says that _your_ dad really needs his help and he thinks I can actually go to school for once and make friends." He ends it on that note with a smile.

Optimistic, Kaito thinks, would not have Yuma's picture as its definition; rather, optimistic's been declared too weak a word.

"Don't you ever get lonely?" asks Haruto, his elbows on the table and his head in his hands; it's plain to see that Yuma fascinates him, and Kazuma's words echo in Kaito's head again, won't Kaito be his friend? Does Yuma even know that his dad asked? How embarrassing.

"Well, moping's not gonna help," Yuma says, and Haruto nods sagely, like that's something that he understands. Which… he does, better than anyone, doesn't he, and there's something stirring inside Kaito like a sickness.

He remembers something, and his fingers start to trace the shape of those letters on the table by themselves, and when Haruto and Yuma both ask him what's up, Kaito bites his lip.

"Hang on," he says then, and pushes back his chair. Heads upstairs and into his room, pulls open his drawer, and tosses all his junk on the bed. Carefully takes out the laminated paperboard, and regards it in the sunlight, the same sunlight that always wakes him up in the mornings, the same sunlight that failed to do so today.

His heart hurts when he looks at it, just as it was when he first ever saw it, the silver letters and the soft colors, the art that looks like it's split in two, and _god_, he—he—well, never mind what he does, because right now, he…

He presses his lips to it one last time. Heads back downstairs, his footsteps louder and faster to escort his heartbeat.

He shoves it out to Yuma horizontally, with both of his hands gripping onto its edges. Yuma is quizzical, but Kaito nods at him like, _go on, take it_, so Yuma does, and then he tilts his head and squints, and Kaito steels himself.

"Kaito," Yuma says then, "you run Photons?"

"Ran," Kaito corrects. "I don't play anymore."

"This is a ghost rare," Yuma tells him, like Kaito doesn't already know. "From the OCG."

"You can have it," Kaito says, like that's not a big deal at all, like it's meaningless, like it's something he was going to throw away, anyway, one teen's trash is another's treasure, right? "I was thinking about selling it, anyway."

"For real?" Yuma's hands are loose in his grip, and he shakes his head. "No, dude, I can't just take this from you, at least let me win it in a duel or something."

"Dude," says Kaito, and now he's getting frustrated, "I'm going to lose anyway. I haven't played in years. Take it."

"Well… okay. But you'll have to duel me if you ever want it back, then!" He pauses. "And I won't take it unless you sit with me at lunch once school starts."


	4. Kay-Toe & Ry-Oh-Guh

GRAVITY WALK

04

* * *

The first day of school, Kaito is late.

Haruto shakes him up about half an hour before school starts, first gently then roughly, yelling something about how he's going to change Kaito's bedtime if he doesn't get out of bed _right now_, _you're embarrassing me, Niisan, and you won't like me when I'm embarassed_. Kaito, of course, doesn't actually have a bedtime, but he groans and sits up in bed and rubs at his eyes, asks what all the commotion's about. Haruto tells him he has thirty minutes to get ready and get to class. Kaito collapses back in bed.

"What if I just don't go?" he wonders, staring up at the ceiling and the faint outline of the stars that cling to it. Haruto, who's pulled the curtains to the side in the hopes of showering Kaito n sunlight and maybe injecting some light into Kaito's soul in the process, comes over and flicks Kaito's forehead.

"Niisan," he says, "it's your last year."

"But what if—"

"Kaito," Haruto says this time, and it's firm and Kaito winces because first name means business. Haruto motions for Kaito's finger, which is dutifully offered and prodded with a needle, and Kaito could swear the kid just likes to play doctor-doctor.

"You promised Yuma," Haruto says then, "and a promise to Yuma is a promise to me."

How Haruto and Yuma got so close in just a week, Kaito's not sure he really understands, but he figures it has something to do with Duel Monsters, because Yuma's come over basically every day this past week, and there've been anime marathons and card game marathons and Kaito hasn't seen Haruto so gleeful in a long time.

Haruto checks the monitor, nods to himself, and doesn't actually know what the number means, so Kaito shakes his head and checks himself. "It's good," he informs Haruto.

"It's good!" Haruto proclaims in his best adult voice, and then proffers his hand to pull Kaito out of bed, pushes him toward a pile of laundry. "That means you don't have any excuses."

"Yeah, yeah," says Kaito, and ushers Haruto out the door when he hears the bus coming down the street.

"Don't forget about lunch! You promised!"

And… well, he supposes he did.

* * *

He's late to homeroom, which would be okay if he were a freshman, and wouldn't be okay if he were a junior, but he's a senior now, so it's, like, not even mandatory for him to show up. Anyway, his homeroom teacher is the old Robotics advisor, so he knows Kaito pretty well and doesn't need to call out his name, which spares Kaito the trial of hearing a white guy even try. Kaito files back into the last seat of the classroom, which is out of alphabetical order, but so is Kaito's life.

He gets a print-out of his schedule, too, which re-informs him of all the classes he's taking, a combination of preparatory courses he failed to reach the honors requirement for last year; English, the only AP he qualified for; and some basic engineering and computer classes that look like they won't be obnoxious to have homework for or require much effort. Kaito's always been a STEM kind of guy, kind of likes physics most of all, but he's already gone through the school's program and hasn't met the requirements for the more advanced engineering. Anyway, English isn't too bad. Poetry is fun.

It's only when he gets his schedule that he realizes he doesn't actually know when Yuma's lunch is, or how to find him in a school like Heartland Central, and then it starts to hit him that this boring day of reading syllabi and going through ice breakers that are useless because friends will stay friends and everyone knows each other by senior year ("Say your name and something you like to do that starts with the same letter!" "Kaito, sleep.") is probably going to be a waste of his time.

It's at his locker one period before lunch that Kaito also realizes that he forgot his wallet and his keys and his meter, and to have breakfast, and to pack his, you know, lunch, and also probably his brain, and wow okay he's dizzy.

One hand holding his forehead, he bangs his locker shut and lets out a yell, wonders if he can steal something from someone or maybe just die on the spot, and in the process he drops his backpack—forgot to zip it—and, what the heck, something drops out that he doesn't remember putting there, a brown paper bag he hadn't noticed this morning, and it's—it's…

It's got his name on it, in little, messy handwriting that he recognizes, the carefully scrawled _Kaito_ in Haruto's hand, and it's a bag of… caramel? Small square cubes, individually wrapped. A letter falls out of the bag, too. It's a copy of Yuma's schedule, with the words _I forgot to give this to you. Good luck, Niisan!_ squished vertically into the margins.

Haruto is…

Certainly the best.

Kaito's locker is in a bit of a deserted area so no one sees his meltdown, no one sees him sheepishly pick his stuff up again and put it back in his backpack and chew carefully on pieces of caramel, one after the other, and he might—he might—ah, crap, late bell.

* * *

When lunch finally comes around, Kaito is hungry enough to devour an entire cow and broke enough to have to go and live with one. It's not like he's never forgotten his wallet or gone hungry before, but it's never actually been about his health before, either, and the kind of hunger he's got right now is the kind that settles in the forefront of his being and nags at him like a fly at a window. Maybe he can find some lost change in and around the vending machine...

All freshmen have to sit in the main cafeteria for the first few weeks of classes, so Kaito knows where to go. He recognizes Yuma by his hair; it's just as pink and just as blue and just as spiky as it was two days ago, when Yuma last came over. Kaito pops another caramel and ducks behind a table so Yuma won't see him before he tries the vending machine thing, but as he's trying to be sneaky and not be noticed, he slams head first into the machine when _he_ notices that Yuma's already sitting with someone.

The varsity jacket on his back spells out KAMISHIRO in bright yellow on navy blue, the ridiculous combination of colors that their school calls a scheme, but the kid across from Yuma doesn't seem to mind. With his spiked purple hair and his deep purple jeans, Shark Kamishiro is sitting with one hand stuffed in his front pocket and the other on his phone, and he's nodding along, not really paying attention as Yuma talks at him animatedly, and _Yuma would._

It was only after some fiasco in the last few months of junior year that Shark Kamishiro moved to Heartland Central from the prestigious Barian Academy, an ordeal about which Kaito only knows because there were two weeks in April where the only subject of conversation was HC's now-resident delinquent and former star athlete. Shark was a point guard, or a quarterback, or something important in whatever sport people cared about at the time; Kaito wasn't paying attention, just sort of picked it up from people gossipping too loudly in the library when Kaito was studying for APs. For all he knew, Shark could've been an extreme cheerleader. An extreme, varsity cheerleader.

Yeah, okay.

Kaito rubs his head where he hit it and has the sudden realization that what Yuma wanted was a lunch companion, right, and now he's got one, caught himself a shark and all that, so Kaito's off the hook, isn't he?

Yuma's voice is loud even with all the other people in the lunch room, like everyone else is ducking their heads and lowering their volume to let Yuma through unchallenged. Kaito checks the vending machines and finds nothing, considers making an escape and going outside to the old spot on the bench where he sat alone with a book for most of the last three years, maybe taking a nap…

"Oh, hey! I see Kaito. KAITO!"

Or.

Yuma calls out to him so loudly that the entire cafeteria goes silent for a second, that everyone turns their head to him as Yuma waves enthusiastically, and it almost looks like Kazuma Tsukumo, waving good bye from Faker's office, and there's Haruto in his head, _you promised, and a promise to Yuma is a promise to me_, and then another, smaller voice in his head, tiny and wavering and quiet, _promise to the stars_?

He did give Yuma Galaxy-Eyes, after all.

Kaito turns and walks over stiffly as the cafeteria goes back to its regular conversation, and if there's a whisper of _Tenjo?_ or _Kite-o_ then he ignores it, and quickly enough it slinks away. Kaito's on Shark's side, opposite Yuma, but he doesn't sit down when he puts one hand up and says, "Hi."

"Hi!" Yuma says back, and what the hell, Kaito sees that he has an actual lunch, what's basically a full-on bento, rice and teriyaki and anpan, and Kaito doesn't know what he expected, maybe like Lunchables or Kid Cuisine, or, like, a box of chicken nuggets butt—_dammit he is so hungry_.

"You didn't buy your lunch yet?"

Ha ha. Lunch. Buying. Money.

"No," says Kaito, and eyes Shark, whose shoulders are slumped because posture, what is that, and his hands and eyes are still glued to his phone as he scrolls aimlessly through his Facebook feed. He hasn't looked up.

"Why don't you put your stuff down and go get?"

"Uh, sure," says Kaito, who is somewhat distracted, and he puts his stuff down and then sits down himself, too, and Yuma stares at him like, _huh?_ and then Kaito asks, "What?"

"...You're not gonna get anything?"

"Oh," says Kaito. Then, one hand holding his stomach: "No."

"Why not?"

"Not hungry."

"What? No way!" Yuma shakes his head like he's in a cartoon, and Kaito gets dizzier just watching him. "I'm _always_ hungry!" Yuma continues, and he turns to Shark, nudges him under the table to get his attention. "What about you, Ryoga?"

Kaito blinks. "Ryoga?"

Shark Kamishiro finally looks at him, and it's a glare, like, _No._

But Kaito, who laughed the first time he heard the name "Shark Kamishiro," and upon hearing it a second time just went, "...Wait, you're serious?" cracks a smirk.

"Ryoga," Kaito repeats, and then a third time, "Kamishiro Ryoga. Everything makes sense now."

Kaito has never spoken to Shark before; to be completely frank, Shark just isn't at Kaito's level. When he first transferred most of the students were talking about him, talking about how he and his sister both skipped a grade at Barian and how they were both athletes and attractive, how they'd all do anything to be the Kamishiros, but Kaito never interacted with Shark because he was… well, not exactly an Honors student. Even coming from Barian and skipping a grade, Shark Kamishiro was apparently dumped into college prep for all of his classes, so Kaito never saw him.

This year, he heard that Shark's sister was transferring, too. There were some rumors that her name might have to be Dolphin, or Shakira, if his name was actually Shark, but suddenly — well, it makes sense.

"Who the hell are you?" Shark asks now, because it probably looks like some white kid just said his name and said it right.

"This is Kaito!" Yuma says. "He's the guy I was telling you about, weren't you listening?"

Kaito doesn't have the heart to tell Yuma how obvious it was that Shark wasn't. "And how exactly did you rope _Ryoga_ here into joining you, Yuma?"

"We have Physics together! Ryoga was all the way in the front and I was all the way in the back but neither of us had lab partners so I asked him and now we sit together."

Shark winces at every single mention of his actual name. Kaito wonders with a moment's guilt if there's something about it that Shark doesn't particularly like, since he doesn't use it all, but since he hasn't actually told them to stop, Kaito doesn't plan on it. Whether or not they've spoken before, Shark strikes Kaito as… well, kind of an idiot. Or an acceptable target.

Kaito doesn't like him, at least.

"Oh, right, _Ryoga_ must have to make up the junior requirements for HC, huh?"

"Why're you saying his name like that?" Yuma asks, frowning and tilting his head, and he doesn't mean backwards or accented or whatever, he means the way Kaito is smirking when he says it, like it's an inside joke despite their non-acquaintanceship.

"No one calls me that," Shark mutters, and he looks down at his feed again, where Kaito can see his name in bold and in blue, **S. H. ARK **, no last name or first, just what he supposes is his alias.

S. H. Ark. Well, okay. Sure.

"Really? What do they call you?"

"Shark."

Kaito starts to lose interest in the conversation and rests his head on the table, trying to focus on anything but his head and his stomach. He's run out of caramel.

"Whoooooa! Shark?! That's such a cool nickname, why do they call you that?"

"Because," Shark says, finally pocketing his phone and fixing Yuma with a glare. "They just do." A moment's pause, and Shark looks away when he mutters, "...You don't have to, if you don't want."

Kaito snorts and wonders if Shark just likes the way Yuma says it.

"What about Kaito?"

Kaito, who's staring at the fries of one of the kids on the other table and trying to make them obey his telepathic command and fly into his mouth, turns back toward the conversation. "What?"

"What do _you_ call Ryoga?"

"I don't know him."

"You do now!" Yuma insists, and from across the table he tries to put one arm around each of them and fails spectacularly when both of them draw back. It doesn't hinder his glee. "We're all friends!"

Kaito's bewildered. "Yuma, we've known each other for a few minutes."

"Well, yeah," says Yuma, "but Ryoga plays DM, and I play DM, and so do you."

"Used to," Kaito and Shark say at the same time, and then stare at each other and pull disgusted faces. Yeah, he definitely doesn't like this guy.

"See? Talking like each other already. Friends." Yuma smiles and sits back in his chair, returns to attacking his bento, but when he notices that Kaito and Shark are still glaring at each other, he says with his mouth full of chicken and rice, "You promised, Kaito!"

"'Kaito,'" says Shark, like something's just clicked in his head. "Aren't you that guy who took like ten thousand APs and failed all of them?"

"Aren't you the guy who got kicked out Barian and landed in English 101?"

They size each other up.

"Oh, good," says Yuma. "So you do know each other."

* * *

Yuma doesn't finish his lunch, and mercifully offers Kaito what's left of it. The bell rings just as Kaito finishes and thanks Yuma with more zeal than is normal, and Shark points Yuma in the right direction for his next class. Then the three of them head their separate ways—except that Shark and Kaito end up going in the same way, at the same pace, and Shark kind of grunts and Kaito also grunts and then they're going up the same stairs, toward the gym, into the same classroom—

"...We have Health together," Shark surmises, then glares at him, like Kaito is the cancer that killed his great-grandmother on his birthday ten years ago or something, then stomps to the last seat in the last row of the classroom, pulls out these gigantic purple BOSE from his backpack, and jams to some music while staring out the window like an anime protagonist.

Kaito rolls his eyes, but also feels kind of anxious because um excuse me that was where _he_ planned on sitting year round, and now he's forced to settle in the last seat in the _first_ row; the only way they can be farther apart is if Kaito sits in the first seat of the first row, which, ahaha, no, and he hopes that the teacher won't assign seats, but if they do, that Kaito will be the fortunate T in a class with no U-Zs. It's happened before, okay, so here's hoping.

They're alone in the room for a few seconds before the other kids start to trickle in, some with their friends and other with their phones out during both pass time and class time, and Kaito… stares at his hands. Last year, he probably used this time to read; his homework was finished in the library after school, so he always had a book with him for boring classes and for lunch, but he hasn't been reading lately and so he doesn't have his book, doesn't even have a notebook to doodle in while he waits, and it's the first day so it's extra boring and he looks at Shark again, Shark with the BOSE and the iPhone and Kaito doesn't even know where his mp3 player is, either (probably swallowed by the same monster that ate his phone and the fan remote).

He finds himself yawning, pillowing his arms on his desk and setting his head down. He nearly falls asleep, finds himself shaken awake when someone hands him the syllabus, _Welcome to Health 401, kids, in this class we'll be talking about your Future_. Kaito's head hits the desk again, an audible thud that people turn to look at him for, and then the teacher makes it worse by telling them that, yeah, hey, assigned seats. There's groans from every student, desk, and chair as the students pick up their things and move to stand along the wall. The teacher appraises them, satisfied by their dissatisfaction, then begins to call names and point to desks.

Kaito crosses his fingers. _Anywhere but the front._

It's not entirely in alphabetical order because it's boy-girl-boy-girl, like they're in the third grade and the teacher—Mr. Crossit, he introduces himself—thinks that if he puts them next to the opposite sex they'll be paying attention. When adults will start to get that the sex of the kid next to them never matters to talkative people, Kaito doesn't know, but he's happy enough with the company of girls around him because that means that there's no chance that he'll end up next to Shark. It also means that Shark, whose surname blessedly starts with a K, will end up in the relative center of the room.

Kaito can guess that Shark probably doesn't like that, and so Kaito is content.

That is, of course, until both Kay-toe Ten-joe and Ry-Oh-Just-Call-Me-Shark Cami-she-row find themselves in the center of the room, next to girls, yes, but also next to each other.

"Well, it's not perfect, but it'll have to do," Crossit says, clapping his hands as the students all check out their neighbors to determine if they're going to be miserable or not until the seats change. "We'll move again later. We do a lot of group work in this class, so you will be seated with your various groups as the year goes on."

A hand immediately shoots up into the air. "Yes," Crossit says, before they can ask, "you _will_ be doing the baby project. And yes, you'll be doing it in pairs."

Kaito's head snaps up at the same time as Shark's.

"Can I work alone?"

The entire class laughs. Kaito and Shark turn and glare at each other, and Shark scoots his desk to the other side a bit, scowling.

Crossit regards them. "No," he says firmly, then smiles in a sweet, kind of malicious way that reminds Kaito of Chris, and that is when Kaito decides that he hates him: "But you can work together."

_What._

"Perhaps a joke," he says then, waving at them dismissively, and then he elaborates. "Yes, I will choose pairs, but we won't be getting our babies until the spring quarter. Anyway..." He takes some papers from his desk and passes them out, moving on to discuss the structure of their class and where to hide in case of a lockdown and all that, and Kaito glares at Shark, and Shark glares at Kaito, and, you know, Kaito doesn't even care about the grade. He just knows that he doesn't like Shark and Shark doesn't like him, and that's that.

"I am _not_ working with you."

Shark was probably kicked out of Barian Academy for being too stupid. "You bet your ass you aren't."

"Checking out my ass, _Kay-toe_?"

"What's there to check out, _Rye-oh-guh_?"

And so the year begins.


	5. Numbers

GRAVITY WALK

05

* * *

School carries on, and Kaito starts to remember why he missed it.

Then he starts to wonder what exactly was wrong with him.

He knows it wasn't the education or whatever that he missed, just, you know, something to occupy him, something that he _had_ to do, something that got him off his butt, because Kaito didn't like to leave things with a due date hanging. But now he's got so much work and so little desire to do it that he comes home and he drops his stuff at the door and he takes a nap on the couch until Haruto gets home and shakes him awake, and then he watches some TV or asks Haruto how his day went, pretty much anything but emptying the contents of his bag and working out his assignments.

No one likes schoolwork—that's just a fact of life—but in his junior year of high school, Kaito did everything he was assigned, and he did it on time. He didn't really complain about it, because it was easy and it was managed, and the point was just to get it out of the way as fast as possible, so every day he'd sit in the school library or bike to the public one for an hour or so and sit there and finish. Then he'd move to the comics section, check to see if there was something new he'd like or he'd let Haruto read, and finally Kaito would head to Haruto's bus stop so they could walk home together, sometimes Haruto trying to ride on Kaito's bike and failing because his legs were too short, sometimes Kaito just pulling it along behind them.

Things were different then. For one, Haruto was in elementary school, so his bus stop was farther away and school ended later. And then—

May happened. June was worse. July, August…

Well, he's screwed up quite a bit, hasn't he, and he finds that the more he screws up, the less he cares.

* * *

The second week of school, Shark Kamishiro transfers into AP English.

Kaito doesn't notice at first. English is right after Health, but Shark didn't show up last period after walking Yuma to his elective, and now Kaito's too busy trying to speed-read whatever act of _Hamlet_ he was supposed to read last night and fell asleep during, 'cause rumor has it there's a pop quiz today, and Kaito doesn't like doing work but he also doesn't like seeing low grades, so here he is on the sliding scale of apathy versus ego.

His seat is somewhere in the middle of the classroom; his last name is close to the end of the alphabet, but there are still some Williams and Underwoods and Yangs that occasionally slip by, and he hasn't been very lucky this year. Their class is big, too, maybe thirty or so kids, so the teacher still hasn't learned their names and calls out attendance from a virtual, updated list. Shark's sister actually sits a few rows down from him; Kaito's head flipped up the first day of class when Mrs. Walker called out Kamishiro Comma Ri—o, just Rio, and then he relaxed. She has the same hair color and same self-satisfied smirk as her brother, but hers is less insufferable, which might just be because Kaito doesn't sit next to her at lunch or in Future Four-Oh-Kill-Me, but it's more likely that Shark is just a moron.

It's when the Player King is about to go on about something or other that Kaito hears something that sounds less like Rio and more like Ryan, something that ends up being cut-off with a "You can call me Shark," and Kaito looks up, startled, what the hec—

Aaaand there he is, right behind his sister, glaring at Walker and telling her nonchalantly that his name is Shark, thanks, and then Shark slides back in his seat and meets Kaito's eyes with his own, and he smirks.

Wow.

_Hamlet_ forgotten, Kaito rips out some paper from his notebook and scribbles down:

_How long did it take you to convince guidance you can read?_

Then he scrunches it up into a ball, and when Walker and Shark are both turned away, throws it at Shark's head. Shark scowls and makes a face, like, what the hell, and Kaito has to mime reaching down and opening it up for Shark to get the idea, like the guy's never passed notes before (Kaito hasn't, but he's seen others do it, and it's a pretty basic concept). Shark follows Kaito's lead, and the shade of red he turns is brighter than Kaito could hope. Shark is _way_ too easy.

Shark taps his sister on the shoulder and gestures for her pen, scribbles something back, and with perfect aim, hits Kaito in the eye when Kaito's least expecting it.

_310-495-2101_

To which Kaito responds:

_Don't get your hopes up. That wasn't flirting._

Shark rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone, makes the text bigger and types in _21st century much_, and because he can't let anything go, _who'd want you anyway_, and once Kaito shrugs his _whatever, idiot_ Shark goes to slip his cell into his pocket and turn his attention to the back of his sister's head—except that it's right then that Rio raises her hand to say something or other and Walker notices what's in Shark's hand and kindly asks him to share the details of whatever conversation could _possibly_ be more important than his education.

Shark, Kaito finds out then, is not very good under pressure. His attempt at an explanation starts with "Kaito" and ends with a lame "so yeah," and it _does_ sound weird to give Kaito his phone number, so Walker doesn't buy it, steals Shark's phone instead, and reads aloud his most recent messages… which happen to be with Yuma, and happen to be, "meet you after class?" "ok! T-Y-S-M, you're the best, partner heart X-D."

Shark, fittingly, sinks in his chair.

When the bell rings, Kaito hightails it outta there before Shark can collect his phone and come after him. He's in higher spirits than he ever expected to be after nearly an hour of Hamlet wangsting on about his substantial inability to do anything but Ophelia (seriously, dude, you're a grownass man, Simba figured it out in an hour and thirty minutes and you can, too). Shark Kamishiro gets all the credit.

Kaito's... not entirely sure what to call their relationship.

For the past week, Kaito's sat with Yuma—and, by extension, Shark—at lunch, just as he promised. On Thursday, he brought a book with him, since he still didn't and doesn't know where his phone or his iPod are to fidget with, but as per custom he didn't enjoy the first page and couldn't really focus, anyway, because Yuma spent the entire period talking loudly about how exciting their lab tomorrow was going to be and if Shark thought they might dissect something ("We're not gonna dissect anything, Yuma," "You're just scared!" "It's _physics_"). So it went again on Friday: Yuma and his two companions, more lunch partners and schoolmates than actual friends, that table of kids that just sort of sit together because they've no one else to sit with… or, well, that's how Kaito _wants_ to describe it, but there's something about Yuma that doesn't make that feel quite right. Yuma is warm and lively and talks to Kaito and Shark like the three of them have known each other for their entire lives, asks after Haruto (he's fine) and Rio (she's Rio) and if Kaito really promised Haruto they'd name their hypothetical dog Starliege (he did), and, of course, every single day, Yuma asks if Kaito and Shark remembered to bring their decks (they didn't).

But for all of Yuma's warmth and friendliness, Kaito and Shark haven't exactly warmed up to each other. In Health, their, uh, center of the room is dark and quiet, Shark tapping his pencil on his knee to the beat of a tune Kaito vaguely recognizes and Kaito doodling aimlessly in his notebook, but no matter the aura of Don't Talk To Me For I Am A Troubled Teen, Crossit calls on them all the same.

"Kaito," Crossit quizzes one day as the semester rolls on, "what's the only surefire way to prevent STI transmission?"

"Be Kaito," comes the snark from Shark's direction, before Kaito, who had his head down to rest but _was_ paying attention, thanks, immediately bites back, "Get yourself eaten out by a shark."

For his cheek Kaito earns a chorus of _oooooh_s from the class and Shark shooting up in his chair. "You wanna _go_, asshole?"

Shark is taller than him anyway, so Kaito just looks up from his seat and says, boredly, "For ice cream? We just had lunch."

And that's how Crossit ends up restraining Shark while Kaito watches on, daring Shark to hit him with just a look, and that's how the two of them are asked to stay after class so that Crossit can talk to them about their behavior. Their Health/Future/End-Me-Now teacher smiles, that sweet, pleasant, smile that can only come with practice and with teachers, and Crossit tells them that he is often considered a kind teacher; his aim, however, is to be an _effective_ teacher, and he very much considers Kay-toe and Rye-oh-guh a personal investment, it's his goal to make them successful, don't they know that?

Kaito snorts. "Good luck."

Crossit's not impressed. "Kay-toe," he says, to which Shark snorts, and Crossit gives him another stern teacher look, "if this behavior between you two continues, I'll have to deduct it from your grade. In fact, neither of you have done any of the homework assigned so far, or participated, and that leaves a significant hole in your report card. What are you going to do when you get to college?"

Not go, Kaito thinks, because he's not entirely sure that what he wanted is what he wanted, not entirely sure that he's motivated enough to be a person, and right now he doesn't really want to think about college or about life or about anything. He was thinking about taking a gap year. Or three.

Neither of them respond, and Crossit shakes his head. "Well, if either of you want to pass this class, I'm going to have to ask that you work together. Cooperate."

"That'll happen," mutters Kaito, and that's when the late bell rings, so Crossit sighs and signs them a late pass for which Kaito doesn't bother waiting.

"Hold up!" says Shark, catching up with the slip of paper, "I actually maybe want to pass this class."

"You? Really?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Sucks," says Kaito, shrugging the weight of his bag from one shoulder to the other. "But nooot my problem."

"Listen up, asshole, whether or not you care about future or whatever, _I_ do, and I'm going to—"

"Beat up the scrawny diabetic?"

Shark blinks. "What?"

"What?"

"Scrawny what?"

"Don't you have a class to skip or something?"

"Yeah," says Shark, waving the pass in Kaito's face. "English."

And they fall in step.

* * *

And Kaito sort of falls into a routine. He wakes up, has his breakfast; swallows a pill, kisses his little brother on the forehead. Walks him to his bus stop, then bikes himself to school. Homeroom; a few classes. Lunch with Yuma and Shark. Health, English. His locker. Home.

And things are… well, he wants to say they're okay. Because he finds that… lately, he's been smiling more. Smiling at all. Whistling a little, picking up on tunes that he doesn't remember where he first heard. Haruto notices, and regularly asks how his friends are, which… friends. Kaito says the word over and over in his head and then says it aloud one night while he's lying face up in bed, counting the plastic stars on his ceiling to see if one might've fallen off or glowed its last. "Friends," and he didn't consider calling them that until Haruto did, but Kaito supposes… well, they _are_ his friends, aren't they?

google dot com tab define friends: /frend/. a person whom one knows and with whom one has a bond of mutual affection. a person whom one knows, likes, and trusts.

He knows them. He talks to them, and they to him, and he doesn't take his book out at all anymore (even if it's still in his backpack), and Shark doesn't bring out his phone, and its only week three and Yuma's convinced Shark to dig up his Duel Monsters, and, um, they trust Kaito to keep score in what should be his English notebook but is mostly sketches, and... it's nice.

It's nice, because Kaito sort of looks forward to it, maybe. He thinks he likes being at home and he likes being in his room (doesn't actually like his room), but there's something about that hour of time each weekday that's his, his and Yuma's and Shark's, and he relishes it. Relishes it, relishes the two hours after it, in Health and in English, where Shark eventually ends up in the seat behind him because Rio complained and they whispers snide remarks—or, more often, Shark feels the need to raise his hand and say something stupid that just makes it obvious he didn't read the book. Kaito didn't exactly read the book, either, but he actually has some idea what he's talking about—so he raises his hand, too, and counters Shark's argument, one-two-snap.

With school to keep him on a daily routine, his meds and thoughts are kind of moderated, too. The same amount of food every day, the same amount of exercise, the same pill at the same time. He skips breakfast sometimes, but his pockets are stuffed with emergency chocolate and all that so, you know, he deals. It starts to feel like maybe he's a person, living and breathing, day by day.

Except that misery knows no better ally than Crossit's stupid assignments.

The fourth week of school, upperclassmen privileges are finally in place, so the three of them are allowed to have lunch off-campus, and Kaito, Shark, and Yuma (but mostly Yuma) have claimed the jungle gym at the park a block down as their own. Shark's grabbed himself a swing and is kind of rocking back and forth on it, not really in the mood to swing, but not having anywhere else to sit that isn't filthy, that won't get his all-important varsity jacket messed up. Yuma's playing on the monkey bars, laughing at how easy they are, but enjoying it all the same, doing it backwards and forwards and then standing on top; Kaito, meanwhile, is at the top, his back against a tic-tac-toe game, a worksheet balanced on one knee, due next period and ready to be bullshat.

"What do I look for in a partner?" asks Kaito, peering down at his homework like it's in another language.

"Someone cute!" says Yuma through his sandwich.

"Doesn't matter," provides Shark, "No one would want you."

"So you've told me," says Kaito, and writes down _witty_. "You're awfully preoccupied with who may or may not be into me."

Shark recoils, glaring up at him, and is there a blush creeping into his cheeks at the accusation? Is this guy serious?

"Excuse me?"

"One might think you're jealous," Kaito says, and scribbles in _intelligent._

Kaito's not _one_, of course, because Kaito's pretty sure that three weeks into knowing the guy and Shark has a crush on Yuma, doodles the kid's name in English and thinks awkwardly covering it when Kaito turns around will work; the other day, when they were talking about the kanji in their name, Shark even asked which ones Yuma used, probably took a mental note, nine ten nine, to practice with later. Yuma seemed disappointed when Shark said he couldn't read the language, either, and maybe it was a trick of the light, but Kaito's pretty sure he saw Shark with kanji grids hiding under his textbook the next day.

"Hey," says Shark now, as Kaito starts to think about the letters that he knows, the letters that he traced and memorized and practiced over and over again, and Kaito snaps his attention back. "What're you even doing? eHarmony? That hopeless?"

"Our homework."

Shark tenses. "We had—"

"How expected," comments Yuma as Shark, panicked, jumps off the swing and climbs up the slide to where Kaito's seated. Kaito passes the sheet to Shark, Shark who "actually wanted to pass," as though Kaito didn't want to do the same, and Shark's eyes grow wide with the realization of a kid who's got fifteen minutes to answer twenty questions about life, the universe, and what they want in their future partner.

"Hey, don't copy my answers," Kaito says, snatching the worksheet back so he can finish it. "Won't get you anywhere."

Shark jumps down from the platform to his backpack leaning against the swings; grabs it, unzips it, and spills its contents onto the mulch-ridden floor to look for the worksheet, all the while releasing a steady stream of curses.

Yuma chooses then to join them, peers over Kaito's shoulder and asks, "Ohh, is this for that future class?" Yuma's heard all about Crossit's dumb Life class from both Kaito and from Shark, who have spent copious amounts of time complaining about it and each other; Yuma, bless his heart, thought it kind of sounded like fun; he asked right away if they were going to do the baby project, to which Shark responded that he thought Crossit was joking and Kaito responded that he wasn't quite sure, and Yuma thought that was so cool, exclaimed that he'd assumed that was something that only ever happened on TV, and that if Kaito and Shark were paired, he demanded to be the baby's godfather.

"Whoa, it seriously asks what you want in a partner, is your teacher doing a matchmaking thing?"

"Who knows," says Kaito, staring blankly at the next question, which wonders how many kids Kaito wants. The answer to that question is, obviously, _none_, but Yuma frowns when Kaito puts that down, tilts his head, asks, "Really?"

"Really," says Kaito, because he can't see himself with kids, doesn't really picture himself with anyone in that kind of… light, you know? Kaito with a partner, never mind a family; Kaito with a boyfriend or a girlfriend or whatever, Kaito with a daughter or a son, Kaito with… no, it just doesn't add up. It's always been him and Haruto, hasn't it, him and his little brother and his dad now, his mom before, and that's how it'll be… except…

Well, Haruto is different from Kaito, isn't he? Haruto is more like Yuma, more the kind to fall in love and get hurt by it, more the kind to want to give himself to people and not care if he really gets anything in return, so maybe it _won't_ always be just him and just Kaito, doesn't Kaito have to grow up, isn't that why he's staring at this sheet in the first place? He has a contest with it, his eyes reading the words but his brain not comprehending, what does Kaito want, what does Kaito dream, what are Kaito's short and long-term goals? Nothing, to sleep, he doesn't have any; just get through today, just get through tomorrow. The sheet asks what subjects he's good at. Kaito's good at all of them. It asks, conversely, which ones he likes. Kaito likes science. He liked physics, took the AP, too, and failed at it, physics was harder than the other classes, and maybe… that's what made it worth it.

Physics was harder, and physics was easier at the same time. Physics, with its unit on astronomy and its star charting project, physics with the equations that made sense once he thought about them a certain way, physics that reminded him of his mother, nights out on the rooftop of their house in the meadow with a cup of hot chocolate in one hand and a blanket in the other. Haruto, small and asleep, curled up between Kaito and their mother, his breath the beat to which she sang their song.

But Kaito failed at physics. One. One out of five, no recommendation, qualified? don't make me laugh, below average, worse than below average, eighty dollars thrown at the stupid CollegeBoard and wasted, just to tell Kaito that there isn't any point in pursuing this. Physics, astronomy, rocket science; something that has to do with space and with energy and matter, the only thing that's ever really been fun to him, and the only thing that always seems to be just out of his grasp.

Stars. Up in the sky. Too far, galaxies far, far, away. Galaxies. Galaxy-Eyes. Photons, and dragons, a fantasy, a dream. A card. He's… he's sweating. He's thirsty? Kaito takes a swig of his water bottle, snaps back to the present, just a little bit, Yuma looking at all the other questions and having something to say, punctuating all his suggestions and questions with "ne, Kaito?" and getting no response but going on anyway, and Kaito is—thirsty, thirsty, thirsty, his throat dry and his bladder full, he…

Kaito stands up and picks up his backpack and says, "I'll see you guys in class," is asked where he's going, answers to the bathroom, and Shark with the, "I'll come, too," like he needs to fix his make-up, like they need to travel in packs. Lunch isn't over for another fifteen minutes.

But they go and Kaito takes out the stupid meter, pricks his finger and does the check, and, yeah, wow, two hundred something, um, bad. He… doesn't think he refilled the medicine chamber on his keys. And… like, okay, he's supposed to keep his stuff with the nurse, but, aha, screw that… and so he's screwed.

He takes the one pill, he pees, Shark stares at him—he hasn't asked, really, ever since Kaito mentioned it two weeks ago, but it's not like Kaito's doing a particularly good job of hiding it (not like he's trying to hide it at all), so…

"What did you put for number two?" Shark asks, when they make eye contact in the mirror and Shark's done so he's just kind of waiting for Kaito now.

Does he honestly expect Kaito to remember which question was which? He asks as much, and Shark scowls, like Kaito's just insulted him just by using his voice to point out a fact.

"The one about a partner."

Shark looks… vulnerable, somehow, when he asks the question like that, and the hint of red is back in his cheeks and Shark is not very good at starting normal conversation, is he? Kaito would say 'the exact opposite of you,' but somehow now doesn't seem like the appropriate time.

"Does it matter? Just make something up."

"This is Crossit," Shark points out. "He'll probably remember whatever it is we write for the rest of the year. Base our tests on it and junk."

"How about," starts Kaito slowly, "someone who engages you with your background."

"Someone who… what?"

"Someone who can deal with how stupid you are," Kaito continues, listing things off in his fingers as he tries to placebo his blood back to normal. "Someone with big, adorable red eyes."

"Kaito—"

"No, mine are gray."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Make it up! Google it! You have a phone, don't you?"

Shark stares at him, and Kaito realizes that, wow, he just snapped, didn't he, and Kaito tries to keep himself calm and collected but…

"You okay?"

"Fine," says Kaito, and they head to class, where Crossit collects their assignments and then reads some of the examples out loud, anonymously; he looks at all of the students meaningfully, especially the one who mentioned _someone happier than me_, and Crossit talks to them about life, the universe, and soul searching, which would be fantastic and helpful if anyone actually cared. That's the thing with being high school seniors: old enough to know that this might be important someday, young enough not to give a damn.

Kaito pulls out his notebook and a pencil. _Ginga_, _me_, _koshi_, _ryu_. Love, partners, life, who cares? _Ginga_, _me_, _koshi_, _ryu_.

To his left, Shark's got earbuds going from his pocket through his shirt to his ears, and he's doodling in the margins, tiny little comics of boys playing in bands—and then some numbers, _9-10-9_.


	6. Dates & Don'ts

**Notes: **SORRY FOR BEING A MILLION YEARS LATE, university sure is. a thing.

* * *

GRAVITY WALK

06

* * *

Shark Kamishiro has a motorcycle.

Kaito learns this one day when he skips first period and homeroom, spends the first half of the school day on the campus roof with _The Black Mirror_ and a bottle of water, and hears the roar of the engine a few minutes into what should be second period. He doesn't think much of it until it comes nearer and the engine dies down, and that's unexpected, so he casts a look down to the street and who does he see but Shark, pulling off his helmet after he's parked in a corner and swung on his backpack. Kaito didn't know that motorcycles are, you know, allowed—and seeing Shark hide it in the bushes, oh, well, there it is, and, hey, this gives him some blackmail material, doesn't it?

Or, well, it did. When Kaito brings it up at the jungle gym and Shark is pissed off at Kaito's audacity to know things, Shark also looks… kind of sad, like Kaito's kicked his puppy, and then while Shark's swinging forlornly and probably listening to Linkin Park or something Yuma jumps into his face with the "What's wrong, Ryoga?" and Shark sort of withdraws into his dumb letterman and his hair almost droops when he mutters, "Shark Drake's not doing so well," and Kaito has no idea what the hell that is supposed to _mean_, his first thought is Tim Drake and that doesn't make sense, but then Yuma asks, "What did the mechanic say?" and it clicks.

"You _named_ your bike?"

And there's the glare, so Kaito shakes his head and rolls his eyes and turns back to _Oedipus Rex_, commenting lightly, "Your face could get stuck like that, you know."

Shark ignores him.

"Don't worry, Ryoga," Yuma says then, nodding seriously and giving Shark a push on the swing, "my dad can pick you up and we can come to school together until it gets fixed!"

And that, of course, is _exactly_ the answer to all of Shark's problems. Kaito snorts so loudly at the suggestion that Yuma turns to face up at him and asks what's wrong, and Kaito doesn't know how to tell Yuma that _Ryoga_ probably doesn't care about getting to school on time, and Yuma likely just made everything worse for him by offering, doesn't know how someone so close to Shark can be so ignorant of how the guy works, and doesn't know if he should warn Yuma to step out of the way before he's smacked in the face by Shark's pendulating butt.

Fortunately, Shark slows down.

"Ignore him," Shark says, yanking the ropes so the swing stops entirely and he'll look less like a seven-year-old being chaperoned by someone at five, but it's a picture that would probably be easier to maintain if Shark's cheeks weren't pink. "He's an idiot."

"That's mean," says Yuma, and he pulls Shark's ropes back to pull and push him again.

"Yeah, Shark," Kaito calls down, "That's mean. I'm hurt."

Shark jumps off his swing, climbs up the ropes to Kaito's spot on the deck, takes Kaito's book, and smacks him upside the head. "Good," says Shark, and everything is as it should be.

It's the first week of October and autumn is settling in, and there's not really enough of a change in the air for it to matter to Shark's letterman or Kaito's Portal hoodie, but the houses in Heartland and the classrooms at HC are decorating their doorsteps in shades of orange and of black, with monsters and skeletons and the occasional zombie turkey for long-term effect, so if the weather's not doing it, the atmosphere supplies the Halloween chill. This means, of course, that Yuma is chattering on about the thirty-first and all his plans for himself and for them, and that it started the second the clock struck twelve. Kaito wasn't there to know this—the month started on a Saturday—but Shark informed him as much the next time they met, about how Yuma wouldn't shut up about it all weekend and how Yuma probably won't shut up about it all month.

Kaito could've smiled. _As expected._

Yuma isn't that hard to figure out, but he surprises them anyway, and that's really what makes him endearing—but, you know, Shark isn't that hard to figure out, either, and for all his complaining about Yuma's near-constant texting, it's plain to see that Shark doesn't actually mind. More than plain. Kind of blatant. But, hey, Shark and Yuma, Kaito knows, are closer to each other than either is to him, and whether it's because Shark wants to hold Yuma's hand or because neither of them has any real contact with Kaito outside of school, Kaito doesn't mind. He's fine with just sort of having school friends — it's more than he's ever had before, and it… keeps them at a safe distance. Hm.

...Hey, that distance doesn't stop them from being friends, okay, and Yuma wouldn't let that happen, anyway.

Like, Kaito and Yuma talk at lunch and Yuma asks Kaito if he brought his deck and Kaito says no, and then Yuma asks Kaito for help with his homework and Kaito helps.

Kaito and Shark trade insults or trade glances when Yuma is being… well, himself, when Yuma slips in a word that he's actually not sure if it's Japanese or English because his home is like that, when Yuma grins like a child and it reminds Kaito so much of Haruto he wants to squish his cheeks, when Yuma's surprisingly… well, American, straight-up rude or when he lets loose a word that's vulgar for Yuma but baby vocabulary for Shark.

Kaito and Yuma do their homework and then they let Shark copy it, or Kaito tells Shark what happened in last night's act of the Oedipus Cycle, because it's just a fact of life that Shark isn't about to do the work and his sister isn't going to tell him what happened, and, hey, you know what, when Shark's depending on him (or if Shark's being a lazy ass), Kaito's more inclined to do the work himself, and he's not even sure whether it's to prove he's better than Shark or just so that neither of them fails anymore.

Things are always easier when they're for someone else.

So it is that autumn comes in, and the air is crisp and fresh and cheery, and so it is that Kaito has his friend Yuma who has his friend Shark who has his friend-person-guy Kaito. Kaito likes his friends, and his friends like him, and Oedipus likes his mom, and his mom likes him, and Kaito's just about drifting off into a nap when Yuma yells out his name and announces very suddenly that this weekend they're going bowling.

Kaito stirs and looks at Yuma uncomprehendingly, like, _we're going what_, and then he sees the surprised look on Shark's face, too, but it's not in his usual I Am Appalled At The Implication That I Still Watch Saturday Morning Cartoons kind of way. It's more like…

"Weren't you listening?" asks Yuma. "We never really do anything together outside of school work and dueling and Ryoga says that he knows this cool place where we could go with an arcade and an ice rink and bowling and stuff!"

...More like Shark just asked Yuma out on a date while he was certain that Kaito wouldn't hear, and Yuma totally missed the point.

"I don't really like bowling," tries Kaito, to which Yuma laughs, says that that's no surprise because Kaito doesn't really like anything, does he, and to come on, it'll be fun. Shark continues to be a generally moody baby, and it's brought to Kaito's attention that this all came out as some sort of agreement, that Shark said he'll only carpool with Yuma if Yuma goes on a date with him, and so Kaito tries another approach: "Wait, I just remembered. I think Haruto wanted to do something this weekend."

"Oh!" Yuma slaps his own forehead. "Bring him, too! I can't believe I forgot! Oh, hey, Ryoga, does the arcade have DDR?"

"Of course."

Oh _no_.

"I don't know if—"

"No more excuses, Kaito," Yuma warns, waggling a finger menacingly, and Shark sends a glare at him from behind Yuma, and Kaito shrugs, because, hey, he tried, right?

Shark doesn't think he tried his _best_; when lunch is over and they're on their way to Crossit's class, Shark's angry, because he knows that Kaito knows what Shark was trying for and, yeah, Kaito does, but what exactly was Kaito supposed to do?

"Did you try just saying 'no'?"

Yeah, have you _met_ Yuma?

"Did _you_ try just telling him you're gay?"

Shark doesn't talk to him for the rest of the day.

It's true that Kaito really doesn't enjoy bowling, though. Sure, he's good at like, Wii Sports, but he's only ever been to an actual bowling alley once—one night with Faker and with Haruto and with Chris's family, who were visiting from Canada while Chris was in LA, and Chris's dad and Kaito's dad are old friends, so, yeah, let's go bowling, that's the best thing LA has to offer, right, and… yeah, Chris's brothers are good at the game, Kaito is not, and Chris had to teach Kaito to play and… didn't do a particularly good job of it. Chris's youngest brother was the best player in their party and he was nice about Kaito sucking, but Thomas was an asshole, so… yeah. Not that fun.

Haruto seemed to enjoy it, though, which is good enough for Kaito, he supposes, and even if Thomas Arclight has a bigger stick up his ass than Shark, it wasn't anything that bothered him all that much, in retrospect, because he got to hang out with Chris that day.

* * *

As it so happens, Haruto doesn't want to go.

"Saturday, Niisan," Haruto points out, and, wow, yeah, what the hell, how could Kaito forget? Haruto has an appointment this Saturday, and not only does that give Kaito a legitimate excuse, it's also not just, you know, an excuse.

...Thing is, on the way back home he started sort of prepping himself up, started actually looking forward to it a little, and now…

"Did you promise Yuma?" Haruto asks, and Kaito shakes his head. "Well, go anyway."

"No," says Kaito.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes!"

"Haruto—"

"Dad's taking me anyway, right? Go out with your friends, Niisan."

And that sort of ends the argument.

* * *

Well, on Haruto's side of things, because the next day, Shark is still bitter about it; with Haruto's inclusion he was a little more okay, since Kaito could be occupied elsewhere while Shark and Yuma did that little middle-school-crush thing, but upon Kaito's announcement that their party will have to be just three, Shark's face goes so sour that Yuma asks if he's got Sour Patch Kids stuffed in his pocket and is keeping them a secret so he doesn't have to share. Shark says no, pulls out his phone, and pouts at his unmoving Facebook feed.

When Yuma has to go to the bathroom before they head to their usual spot outside, Shark looks this way and that way, making sure that no one's there, and goes, "Dude, come on."

"Do you think that maybe this is your problem?" asks Kaito, who wonders if maybe Shark should just tell Yuma, and also wonders how much fun Shark had this morning in a car with Kazuma Tsukumo.

"No. Drop out."

"I'm not the one with the crush on the cute Japanese transfer, okay?"

"He didn't transfer from—that's not what I—"

"But he's still cute, right?"

"I'll tell you who's _not_ cute—"

"What's up?" comes Yuma's voice, and Shark freezes, and Kaito leads the way outside, whistling to himself. So it goes, and so Shark is a failure, and Kaito would leave out of the goodness of his own heart, really, he would, except he made a promise to Haruto, didn't he? And a promise to Haruto is a promise to Yuma.


End file.
